


Salvatore

by JackAnthonySylverwind



Series: Honeymoon [1]
Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: AU, Harry is a Good Friend, M/M, Mutual Pining, Osborn Curse doesn't exist, Peter is kind of cute when sleep deprived, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 22:24:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7549588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackAnthonySylverwind/pseuds/JackAnthonySylverwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter doesn't question how Harry keeps showing up. He's just thankful he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvatore

**Author's Note:**

> AU. There is no Osborn curse. Harry is CEO of Oscorp, even though Norman isn't dead yet. The poorly conceived subplot of Peter battling wolf-men in the first half is basically me being self indulgent and referencing Anne Rice's The Wolf Gift. Feel free to ignore it.
> 
> Not beta read, so all spelling mistakes are not me. 
> 
> Title refers to the Lana Del Rey song from Honeymoon.

After their reunion, Harry begins showing up everywhere.

At first, Peter thinks he's hallucinating. It's not like it's impossible for him and Harry to run into each other. They live in New York, after all. At some point, their paths are bound to cross. That's just the way it is. But it was the places they bumped into each other that weirded Peter out, and how it kept happening. They were places one would never expect Harry Osborn, CEO of Oscorp, to even bother visiting.

The first time, it's at Peter's favorite cafe.

He sat in a booth at the back, eyes glued to an essay he'd written the night before, and which he was supposed to hand in within the next two hours. As fate would have it, he'd written it after having spent the major part of his night fighting crime, so to say his essay was...barely coherent...would have been a huge compliment.  
Running a hand through his hair, Peter groaned. He had no time to write something better. He simply didn't. Silently, he prayed the day went by as fast as possible. That his professor took in the assignment without making any questions about it so that he could move on from his current state of near zombification. If that wasn't couldn't be, then, he'd be content with, at least, several hours on uninterrupted sleep.

Just when he was about to zone out, a bag fell onto the seat across from his, making him jump.

"Mind if i join?"

He'd recognize that voice anywhere. It'd been one of his favorite sounds throughout his entire childhood. The voice of his best friend, the voice of the boy who at one point in his life went from being his best friend to being his everything. Peter had to push away the sea of memories that threatened to overwhelm him.  
Looking up, he found himself staring at a sight that nearly made him breathless. He'd had the same reaction when they first saw each other a week ago at Osborn Manor. At the bottom of the stairs, seeing Harry come out of the shadows...it was something he thought he'd never live to see again.

"Not at all," Peter said, unaware of how long he'd been staring. Not long, apparently. Harry just shook his head and slid right into the seat across from him, a small smile on his face.

He signaled a waitress near them. When she reached their table, he said: "Can my friend get a refill? He needs it and, just between us, he going through some shit." Peter couldn't help but scowl.

"Was that necessary?" He asked as he took in what Harry was wearing. It was most definitely not what one wore for a quick run to the nearest coffee shop. White button up shirt, slacks and suede shoes. Definitely not.

"Yes it was," Harry said, grinning. "You need it. And, keep in mind that i say this because i care,...you look like shit, Pete. Something wrong?"

Peter couldn't help but laugh. "No, nothing's wrong. I just didn't sleep well last night. What are you doing here, anyways? I thought you had, like, perfect coffee machines at Oscorp."

Harry's eyes hardened at the mention of the company he now managed. "Why didn't you sleep well last night?"

He shrugged, overlooking the fact that Harry had answered his question with another question. He was thankful for the arrival of the waitress Harry had bossed around. She took her time refilling his cup, which gave him plenty of time to make up an excuse for last night's lack of sleep, one that didn't involve fighting mutant wolf-men.

"I had to write an essay, as you can see," Peter waved at the papers in front of him. Thinking about it again made his head ache, and he massaged his temples. "I might not hand it in."

"Why?" His friend asked curiously.

"It's shit. Doesn't make any sense. I could've done better. Take your pick."

Harry snorted, then, in a move Peter didn't see coming, looked at him from under his eyelashes in a way that many would've deemed obscene.

"Can i read it?"

"Sure," Peter answered quickly, feeling like a deer caught in the proverbial headlights.

Harry gathered the papers and spent several minutes going through them. Peter tried not to feel anxious, he really did. He ended up biting his nails and twisting his hair into weird shapes.

When Harry finally, finally looked away from the papers and at him, he burst into laughter. It was the kind of laughter that got attention, and it did. Several of the people in the coffee shop turned to look at their table. Harry didn't seem to notice.

"What's so funny?" Peter asked, trying to sound vaguely annoyed, but failing miserably. He was too entertained to care.

"Your hair, Pete," Harry answered in between subsiding fits of laughter. They were becoming giggles now, and they made bats fly in Peter's stomach. He tried to ignore the sensation. It was too damn early to try and figure out what it could mean, although he had the feeling he already knew.

"What about it?" He asked, running a hand through it.

Harry giggled again. "It looks like Robert Smith's hair. Fuck that, Robert Smith would be jealous of your hair."

Peter felt his cheeks burn. He picked up his coffee mug and took a huge gulp, trying to distract himself. Harry kept giggling, and he shook his head.

"Enough about my hair. What did you think of the essay?"

Harry handed him the papers. "It's good. Not as good as I'd expect from you, but pretty good."

Peter groaned. "Don't give me hope and then say it's not good." Harry laughed and patted his hand.

"That's not what I said, Pete. I said it's good, although i know you could write something much better."

"What should i do?"

Harry grinned. "I suggest you hand it in and move on. You did the best you could." Then, looking at his watch, he asked,"By the way, when do you have to hand it?"

Looking at his own watch, Peter got up from his seat and thrust his essay into his bag as fast as he could.

"Right now."

"Peter, calm down, i can drive you there." Harry said, his voice soothing. Peter almost didn't hear him.

When Harry's words registered, he frowned.

"I thought you said you walked here."

Harry got up from his chair, threw a pair of suspicious looking dollar bills on their table and shrugged.

Using that look that had nearly caused Peter a heart attack several times during their conversation once more, he said: "I lied."

Peter was in too much of a hurry to question it.

* * *

The second time, it's at a library, and Peter's almost sure it's a dream.

Peter's, yet again, suffering from sleep deprivation. This time around, however, he has no criminal mastermind to blame. He'd spent the previous night watching a Criminal Minds marathon-for scientific purposes, kept telling himself-and had gone to bed just as the sun was starting to come up. Ergo, one very tired Peter Parker.

The following morning, a Saturday, thankfully, found him making his way to the nearest library to investigate wolf behavior. He gathered some books that caught his attention, brought them over with him to the emptiest corner he could find and...promptly fell asleep before he could even open the first book.

When he opened his eyes again, Harry was there.

He sat across from him, exactly the way he had at the coffee shop, eyes focused on Peter. He was grinning in such a way that, for a second, Peter wondered if he'd actually woken up.

"Are you really here?" Peter asked, and his voice came out softer than he'd intended it to.

Harry frowned. "Do you want me to be?"

"Yes."

"Then i am," Harry said triumphantly, with joy in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

Harry lifted a stack of blue papers. "Work."

Now it was Peter who frowned. "Don't CEO's have people they send to get paperwork? What are they called again, um, slaves?" The last part came out before he could stop it, and both men laughed.

"Assistants," Harry corrected him, "although one can barely tell the difference nowadays."

"Now, don't be an asshole."

"Wasn't trying to be," Harry countered. "But yes, we usually have assistants get the paperwork, but this time i felt like taking a more...hands on... approach." He wiggled his eyebrows at the last part.

Peter chuckled. "You're a riot." Then, remembering something, he asked, "Hey, why did you lie to me last time?"

Roses seemed to bloom in Harry's cheeks.

"I, um," the young CEO ran a hand through his hair, "I'd rather not talk about that just yet. Is that OK?" He shot Peter a pleading look, and the brunette shrugged.

"Yeah, sure."

"Are you always this languorous on weekends?"

"Only when I'm dreaming."

Harry laughed. "What are those?" He pointed at the books on Peter's lap.

Once again, Peter found himself trying to conjure up a credible lie.

"Research," he said quickly. "For school."

"Cool."

Peter almost sighted with relief. He hated lying to Harry, even when it was absolutely necessary. Him not asking any more questions made things a whole lot easier.  
"Wait," Harry said suddenly, and Peter's blood froze in his veins.

_Fuck, shit, fuck, he knows i lied. Fuck, shit, fuck._ He didn't want Harry to be mad at him for lying, even if this was all a dream.

Their eyes met. " _You said 'only when i'm dreaming'_."

"Yes," Peter replied slowly, carefully.

"Did you mean that?"

He really wondered where Dream Harry was going with this.

"Yes."

He got up. Then, he extended a hand towards Peter. He took it, and found himself on his feet before his mind could even registered what had happened.

"Harry, what the hell?"

"Are you taking these books with you?" He began picking them up from the floor.

"Yeah, sure. Why?"

"Because I'm almost sure you're extremely sleep deprived again. That being the case, i need to do the sensible thing, which is get you home." The tone in Harry's voice made Peter realize his friend wasn't kidding.

Then, it hit him.

It was as if somebody had poured a shot of espresso right into his brain.

"Holy shit,"

"Peter, what is it?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"I'm not dreaming." Peter said sadly.

Harry brought a hand up to his mouth, but laughter still managed to come out.

"No you're not, Pete."

"Then you're not really here," He couldn't help but notice how much he sounded like a brokenhearted child just then. He hoped Harry hadn't, but the look in his eyes told him he had.

Harry grabbed Peter's hand.

"I am. And so are you. You're just a little bit loopy because you haven't been sleeping well."

From that point onward, things were a blur for Peter. He remembered Harry helping him check out his books from the library, as well as calling him a cab. He helped Peter get on, then told the driver Peter's address.

"Can i trust you to get there safely?"

Peter snorted and pouted. "Harry, please, I'm not a little boy. Of course i can get to my own home safely."

"Pouting like that you do. But don't stop, it suits you." With that, the CEO waved at the driver, who sped off.

Peter did indeed make it home safely. The moment he walked into his room, he passed out.

* * *

Later that night, Peter got a call from a blocked number.

He didn't have to guess who it was from. Hell, didn't even have to answer and hear the caller's voice. He just knew.

"I made it home safe, Harry."

Laughter. "That's good to know."

"Why does your number appear blocked?"

"C'mon, Pete," The voice like melting ice said playfully. "I can't give away all my secrets."

"You don't give away any of your secrets, Har." Peter noted, thinking about the way Harry kept appearing and disappearing.

"True, true. I have a question, though."

"Shoot."

"Back in the library, you really did think you were dreaming, didn't you?"

Peter pushed away the embarrassment that threatened to take over him. He felt his cheeks burning up and was thankful that, for once, Harry wouldn't get to see the effect he had on him.

"Yes, I did." He admitted.

"Does that happen often?" Harry inquired.

"What does?"

"Me, appearing in your dreams."

_Yes, more than I'd like to admit_.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Peter lied quickly.

Harry chuckled. "It happens to me too, you know."

"What?"

"Yeah. Ever since we first saw each other again you've become a permanent fixture in my dreams."

He hadn't been expecting that. He hadn't been expecting the softness in Harry's tone, either.

"Anyways, I'll let you get back to sleep. Sweet dreams, Peter."

Before he could say anything, the call was over.

* * *

 

Third time's the charm.

Peter had rested well enough in the weeks following the incident in the library to know the difference between what was real and what was not. Therefore, when he walks into his campus' cafeteria and spots Harry sitting in the back and waving at him, he knows better than to freak out.

He walks to the table his friend's at and sits across from him.

"Hey, Pete." Harry greeted him cheerfully.

"Hey, Har. Should I even bother asking why you're here?"

Harry grinned and shook his head. "I could lie. Do you want to hear me lie?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"I heard the food here was great and decided to try it."

"Did you now?" Peter asked, smiling.

"No. Now, do you wanna hear the truth?"

"I'd love to."

"I came to break you out!" Harry waved his hands around dramatically and Peter laughed. He thought he saw somebody taking pictures from the corner of his eye, on the other side of the room.

"You're in luck. I just got out of my last class of the day." The look on Harry's face when he heard Peter's words was one of such pure joy that Peter almost slapped himself for not taking a picture and immortalizing it. Next time, I'll be prepared.

"Did you have any plans for the afternoon?" Harry asked.

"Nope. I was gonna head home," feeling bold, Peter looked his best friend in the eye and asked, "Wanna come with?"

Harry gave Peter a shy smile, which surprised him.

"Always."

* * *

  
It was like Harry never left.

They sat in the living room sofa, drinking coffee and talking about every little thing they could think of. Harry told Peter about boarding school, about his tantrums and how he'd become a tabloid sensation thanks to them.

Peter told him about high school, about how he'd discovered his his love of photography thanks to the long periods he spent isolated from others and about Uncle Ben's passing. He'd never forget the feeling of Harry's hand wrapped around his while he told him about it. It was more than comfort, and he knew the other boy could feel it too.

"It's just like I remember," Harry said softly, eyes cloudy with tears. Peter squeezed his hand.

"I missed it so much. Missed you so much, Peter. You were my everything, my-" Harry stopped talking then. He pulled his hand from Peter's and looked away.

"Harry."

"I'm sorry, that was-"

"Harry."

"I'll understand if you don't-"

" _For Christ's safe, Harry, do shut up_." That got Harry's attention. He looked back at Peter, eyes full of tears.

"It was exactly the same for me. I understand what you mean, Har. Now, stop fidgeting and let me kiss you."

"Yes, please."

Peter took Harry's face in his hands and brought it towards his.

Neither would forget that moment. The second their lips met, the atmosphere of the room changed. The uncertainty that'd been hanging in the air just seconds earlier disappeared completely.

Harry titled his head back, deepening the kiss, and allowing Peter's tongue to travel deep into his mouth. Hands caressed bodies, eyes remained closed and, for a long time, there was nothing but warmth and gentle, although feverish, kisses.

When they pulled away, the world had changed. At least it had for them. The ice had been broken, and a long standing question had finally been answered.

"I love you so much, Harry Osborn." Peter said, and pressed another kiss onto Harry's mouth.

"I love you too, Peter Park." Harry replied, tears rolling down his cheeks. Peter wiped them away.

"Would you like to go up to my room?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Yup. Same old Harry.

* * *

Aunt May called to let Peter know she'd be working late that night.

"Yes, Aunt May, I promise I'll eat. And wash the dishes. Yes, I'll stay safe. Love you too, bye."

"Bless her," Harry said, his head resting on Peter's chest. They'd spent the last three hours making up for lost time in Peter's bed, and both men were covered in sweat and semen.

  
Peter kissed Harry's forehead. "I can't wait to see her face when she sees you tomorrow."

Harry looked up at him. "I thought you'd make me leave before she got back."

"Please, Harry. Who do you think I am?" Harry laughed. "She'll be happy for us."

"I really hope so. My dad sure won't be," That let Peter know they wouldn't be discussing talking to Norman Osborn about their relationship anytime soon. Not that he'd wanted to. The few memories he had of Mr. Osborn were not pleasant.

"Hey, Harry. I have a question. A few, actually."

Harry laughed. "Oh God, Peter. I hope it's not something-"

"How did you keep finding me? At the coffee shop, at the library and then on campus. How did you do it?"

Harry was quiet for a few seconds. Peter waited.

"I hired someone after we first saw each other again." He finally admitted.

"What for?"

"At first, to see if you and Gwen were really done, which you were. Then...to see where you usually spent your time. I wanted to see you again, but i wouldn't if you, you know, didn't have the time for it." Harry didn't have to say the 'for me', it was there.

Peter frowned.

"Wait a second. You're telling me you actually paid someone to find out where i hung out and if i was still seeing Gwen, when i would've easily told you all of this for free?"  
Harry groaned. "I've never claimed to be smart."

"Clearly not."

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, swatting Peter in the chest. He looked him directly in the eyes. "Are you mad with me?"

To his surprise, Peter shook his head and smiled. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because I understand, Harry. And while I'm not happy you had some weirdo follow me around, I'm certainly happy where we ended up."

Harry grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "I do too." Moving around, he placed his butt on Peter's waist. "Wanna go again?"

Peter laughed and kissed him. "You're insatiable, Mr. Osborn."

_"The summer's wild_  
_And I've been waiting for you all this time_  
_I adore you, can't you see, you're meant for me?"_

_the end._


End file.
